


Rescue Mints

by Stella_Malodi



Series: FYDL Darcyland POC Week [8]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Darcy has no Survival Skillz, F/M, FYDL Darcyland POC Week, Fluff and Crack, SHIP DARCY WITH ALL THE THINGS, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Stranded, deserted island, it's a problem
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-12
Updated: 2016-05-12
Packaged: 2018-06-08 00:37:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6831796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stella_Malodi/pseuds/Stella_Malodi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Darcy's stuck on a one-star island. Sam performs a five-star rescue.</p>
<hr/>
<p>Darcy was pretty sure she’d been bitten by every non-lethal bug on the island. She’d also gotten sunburned, stepped on a jellyfish, and screamed at at least ten different snakes. Or maybe a couple of them were the same snake, but coming near her a second time definitely necessitated more screaming.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rescue Mints

**Author's Note:**

> Thursday's Prompt: Deserted Island
> 
> Friendly Reminder: In this Soulmate AU, everyone is born with a tattoo of the first words their Soulmate will say to them. Showing or telling anyone what it says is a big taboo.

The thing was, Darcy didn’t actually know _how_ to fly an airplane. And, yeah, she was smart, but she wasn’t pick-up-piloting-on-the-fly (HA) smart. It was something she would need actual training to be able to do, and she just didn’t have it.

Knocking out bad guys? Sure. Things like, oh, getting a coded message to the Avengers? No problem. Figuring out how to fly an airplane? Uh, yeah, no. The only reason the plane was still in the air was the handy-dandy autopilot switch, which was, thankfully, clearly marked.

But, there was one more usable skill Darcy _did_ have.

So, when she spotted a landmass up ahead, Darcy secured everything useful she could find to her body, grabbed a parachute, and, when the time was right… jumped.

 

* * *

 

It didn’t take Darcy long to realize that she had, perhaps, slightly miscalculated. She had (naively) assumed that whatever island she found would be able to actually support human life, even if it was only for a short period of time.

Not so much.

If the island had an accessible water source, she had yet to find it. And she was starting to realize that the reason there were no books about people _without_ awesome ‘wilderness survival skills’ getting stranded was because _they wouldn’t survive_.

Darcy had a water filtration thingy and some protein bars; she’d just have to hope that they would be enough to keep her alive until help came. Because, seriously? She’d probably poison herself if she tried foraging, she hadn’t been fishing since she was twelve (and never in the ocean with nothing to use for, oh, a hook, a line, or bait), and she wasn’t confident that she could win in a fight against _any_ of the animals she was sharing the island with.

 

* * *

 

It took five days. In that time, she was pretty sure she’d been bitten by every non-lethal bug on the island. She’d also gotten sunburned, stepped on a jellyfish, and screamed at at least ten different snakes. Or maybe a couple of them were the same snake, but coming near her a second time definitely necessitated more screaming.

So, yeah. Needless to say, she was both miserable and relieved when she saw the quinjet. At this point? She didn’t care who it was, as long as they _got her off of this island_. She limped to the beach, waving one of her arms as she went, and tried to find the right frequency on her radio to contact whoever it was.

The jet was drawing ever closer, and it wasn’t slowing or preparing to land. She started cursing and stopped waving so she could fiddle more effectively with the radio. It flew over her, then past her… and then a hatch opened and a figure dropped out.

He didn’t have a parachute, but then again, he didn’t need one.

He had wings.

“Dude, I would totally kiss you right now,” she called as he landed, “but I haven’t had access to a toothbrush in, like, a week.”

His eyebrows shot up, and he pulled his goggles up onto his forehead. “Uh… I’ve got mints, if you want one.”

It was her turn for raised eyebrows, and she laughed incredulously. “Seriously? _Here?”_

He shrugged, and smirked slightly, which was _totally_ not attractive or distracting or anything. Not even a little bit. Nope. “Well, if my Soulmate wants to kiss me, who am I to let a little halitosis stand in the way?”

She laughed. “Just get me off this island; we’ll talk kissing later.”

He saluted with a wink and a “yes, _ma’am,”_ pulled his goggles back into place, and sauntered forward.

The cockiness dropped when he touched her arm and she winced.

“You okay?”

She forced a laugh. “Sunburns and bug bites and jellyfish stings, oh my.”

He winced in sympathy. “We’ll have a doctor take a look at you when we get back.”

She looked down. “Just… get me home. Please.”

“I will. I promise. It won’t be long now.” He stepped behind her, then hesitated. “I’m sorry, but this is going to hurt. I need to fly us up to the jet, and it’s safer if you’re tied to me.”

She nodded her agreement and braced herself, but, well, she’d never been very good with pain. She muttered strings of “ow”s the whole time he was strapping her to his chest, and she groaned when they took off.

The straps digging into her sensitive skin _hurt,_ but the flying itself was… kind of awesome. When they swooped into the quinjet, she said, “We’ll have to do that again when I’m not, you know, in pain.”

She could hear the smile in his voice as he started unstrapping her. “Are you _sure_ you don’t want that mint? ‘Cause this is definitely feeling like a minty moment to me.”

She smiled, but shook her head. “It’s still a ‘not yet.’ But… I wouldn’t say no to some after-dinner mints.”

He chuckled in her ear, and she shivered. “All right,” he said, his voice low. “After-dinner mints it is.”

The straps were all undone, but his arms were still wrapped loosely around her. She turned around. “Wilson?”

“Yeah?”

“I changed my mind. Gimme the damn mints.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed!
> 
> If you have any prompts you'd like to (eventually) see, leave 'em in the comments! :)


End file.
